


Here Come the Wolves

by ceann_cinnidh



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceann_cinnidh/pseuds/ceann_cinnidh
Summary: They are wildlings. They belong beyond the wall where they are lawless and free.The dreams of a banshee, have other ideas.





	Here Come the Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> This is almost definitely a load of shit, my card details have probably been stolen and I cant login to my bank, its after midnight, I'm snowed in, and I think i'm going to cry but what is fanfiction if not an outpouring of emotion during a crisis?

_The sun spilt across her shoulders like its very fire was dripping down from the sky. The crowd hollered around her, profanities bellowing across the courtyard, necks craning, fists beating the air. She easily stepped around the scantily clad bodies, as if in a dream, like a rehearsed dance she’d long since mastered. If her thick furs brushed past anyone’s bare skin they didn’t notice._

_She meandered her way ever closer to the front of the writhing mass – stepping across the threshold of the crowd, wandering past the guards and their unchanging faces, her booted feet found their own way to the stone stage._

_She picked her way up the narrow steps slowly._

_The crowd continued their goading chants, but she was distracted by the people on a high plinth to her left – distracted to mean the way you are when a butterfly floats by, capturing your interest briefly. These butterflies were smug, donned in gold. Her steady feet found their way to the top of the stairs and there a man knelt beneath her. A man he appeared to be, but a passing thought in the back of her mind whispered ‘direwolf’. A direwolf was kneeling next to her._

_Another man stood above him, arms raised above his head. He was a shadow in black. She felt the pull of his bloodlust, dark and spiteful. The sword in his hands swung down in a thwack, and the wolf’s head was rolling towards her feet._

_His blood speckled her snow boots._

 

Lydia jerked awake, a cold sweat across her forehead, choking on the crisp air. Her hands gripped into the snow, squeezing it between her fingers and melting it into slush. She rose to sit, leaving behind the impression of her body in the icy snowfall. Her breath clouded the air in front of her face. Pushing a tangle of hair away from her eyes, she felt a drip of sweat roll down her spine.

To her right was little pup Corey, still sleeping, nosing further into Lydia’s furs. On her left was Stiles, Derek’s arm draped across his chest from behind him. The grove the pack had chosen to sleep in tonight was small, all of them tucked into thick tree roots close together. An overwhelming surge of ‘family’ washed across Lydia as she looked around at the sleeping forms.

Her roaming eyes went first to the babies of the pack: Corey next to her, Hayden tucked snuggly under Ethan’s arm, Erica curled protectively around Mason, and Liam pressed tightly between Scott and Allison. The tiny bodies of Brett, Malia, Theo and Lynsey had stacked up on top of a barely visible Isaac. She let out a breath of air she’d been holding for too long – released with the tension across her shoulders. She started her customary count of the adults of the pack now, battling away the memories of her dream.

She’d been having it more and more recently – Derek, Stiles, - and surely that could only mean that this _something_ that it was trying to tell her was getting more and more urgent – Erica, Boyd – and that whatever it wanted her to do, it wanted her to do now – Aiden, Allison. Stiles had tried to give her something to help her sleep – Ethan, Jackson, – but it didn’t detract from the dream – Peter, Isaac, Scott – if anything it made it more vivid.

“Can’t sleep?” Boyd.

“Nightmare. At least, I think it was nightmare. I can’t really tell the difference between dreams and nightmares anymore.” She shook away the thought returning her eyes to Boyd. “You?”

“I heard your breathing change.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. _The dream_ again?” She nodded, swiping her sweaty hair from her forehead. “It might be important. The gods are maybe trying to tell you something.”

“Maybe.”

“Go over it again with Stiles and Derek in the morning. They might think of something they hadn’t before.” A pause was filled by the echoing wind, comfortable and full of warmth. “Get some sleep.”

Lydia looked down at her boots.

Not a speck of blood to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this whole story planned out, but for now while my other works are taking precedence it will remain marked as complete. I hoped you enjoy it?


End file.
